


Feeding

by vintage_masquerade



Category: Byzantium (2012), Dracula Untold (2014)
Genre: M/M, blurpt random shit, involves some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 06:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2640917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintage_masquerade/pseuds/vintage_masquerade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vlad doesn't understand how Darvell has survived this long the way he feeds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feeding

**Author's Note:**

> Just a dumb drabble based off of a video I saw about a leopard seal and a photographer. Don't expect much of this fic but I enjoyed writing it!

It started with a young man.

Vlad dragged him into the room by his elbow, hands bound behind his back. The ancient vampire threw the man to the floor, and he landed on his knees at Darvell's feet. The lesser vampire looked at the cowering, trembling man, then turned away with a blank expression. He stared at the wall and ignored the man until he finally heard Vlad drag him back out of the room and shut the door.

The next day was a woman, older than yesterday's capture but still with many years left in her life. Darvell thought he saw a flicker of annoyance as Vlad pushed her into the room, she stumbled but did not fall. Her hands were at her sides, unbound, as if that was supposed to fool Darvell into thinking she came willingly. He could see her shaking from across the room. Again Darvell ignored Vlad's offering of younger blood until the older vampire took her away.

A week later another man was brought into Darvell's room. Perhaps 40 years old, clutching a wound on his forearm. Blood dripped off his fingers into the lush, antique-looking carpet. Darvell swore he could hear Vlad's voice in his head; "What a waste." Darvell couldn't help the thought boring through his own mind, his mind growing blurred with bloodlust. Trapped here, and offered only those he would not kill, he hadn't fed in too long.  
"Eat," Vlad commanded, voice low but it filled the room. The man whirled to look at him, then back at Darvell, expectant fear leaking into his gaze.  
Darvell was still watching each drop of blood hit the floor when he answered. "I won't."  
Vlad hesitated this time, studying the weaker vampire with a look somewhere between confusion and interest. Darvell wondered if he would say anything more, but Vlad took the man roughly and pulled him out the door.

Eight days later there were two, and their struggling was so much that Vlad almost seemed to have trouble with them. Even so the look on his face was more urgent than Darvell had expected to ever see him. The two humans, a pair of wretched looking, graying women, were not quiet and scared like the others, but loud and quarrelling.  
"Kill her first! She's an old bitch, I won't care!"  
"I'll let you take her if you let me go! Take her off my hands!"  
Over their fighting and begging for the other's death, Darvell felt a small chuckle pull at his chest. Was Vlad actually trying?  
"This doesn't count, you know," he called over the women's arguing, and Vlad removed them without another word.

Five days later was a man, young like the first. Bloody, bruised, reeling and wobbling with blood loss. Darvell fought to stay where he was; he wanted to help him more than he wanted to feast on him, but he couldn't trust himself to resist the hunger up close.  
"He's going to die eventually, Darvell." He hated that the only response he could think to give Vlad involved 'you won't win', it sounded like a game that way. So he sat silent until both of them were gone.

The next time, eleven days later, was quiet. Vlad opened the door for the prey, talking quietly to her as she walked in with small, careful steps. The old woman turned and thanked him as he let the door close behind her, and Darvell caught a strange look from him before the door cut it off. Darvell turned his attention to the elderly woman, studying the somewhat tepid smile on her face.  
"He told me you could help me," she said, the smallest hint of anticipation in her voice. Darvell didn't need to hear anything else to know what she was asking, despite not believing it. Perhaps Vlad wasn't so ruthless.  
"Let's get started, then."


End file.
